


A Good Retirement Plan

by relenafanel



Series: Let's go steal a... [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Awkward Blow Jobs, Brooklyn, Falling In Love, Heart-to-Heart, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Romance, all the sex I write has awkwardness and laughter in it lbh, conmen and thieves as the good guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 16:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relenafanel/pseuds/relenafanel
Summary: Bucky stole Steve's wallet, and in return Steve stole his heart.Bucky let him have his moment of playing innocent. “I’ve figured out your secret,” Bucky told him, looking out. The view of Manhattan was spectacular, and the food and drinks were decadent.  It was the exact reason he’d gotten into the business.“What’s that?” Steve asked. There was a smile hovering on his mouth as he took a sip of his drink, and Bucky wasn’t sure if it was because Steve was confident Bucky didn’t know his secret or if it was because they were sharing that awareness.  Either way there was a flirtation to it that made Bucky’s heart beat a little faster, eager for the attention.“You get off on this,” Bucky told him, leaning back against the railing and relishing the way Steve’s eyes followed the movement.  “The rush. The danger. The game of strategy. You’ve found yourself here, with us thieves. It’s different on this side, and it’s seduced you.”A Leverage AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [umetnica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/umetnica/gifts).



> This is for the WONDERFUL and TALENTED [ellesbeesknees](http://ellebeesknees.tumblr.com/) as part of the Reverse Big Bang challenge. I claimed her fantastic Leverage AU artwork and prompt. It was perfect for me! 
> 
> Make sure to stop by and give [the artwork your love!](http://ellebeesknees.tumblr.com/post/174762810227/lenadraws-one-of-my-contributions-for-the)
> 
> Note: She and I did have an in-depth conversation about whether or not I should set this in the Leverage series I already started or create something new, so it does fit into the [Let's go steal a...](https://archiveofourown.org/series/316883) world.

“I don’t think you’ve looked hard enough,” Bucky said in a belligerent Brooklyn accent so strong that the receptionist barely refrained from rolling her eyes at him.  “Check again, for fucksakes this is 2018. You’re not shuffling through paper.   I’ll spell it for you. Search this: N A  S C I M B E N I.”  Bucky paused to check where Natasha was in raiding the office safe, visible through a glass wall if the receptionist looked behind her.  Almost there.  “Do you need that again, sweetheart?” he asked, ignoring the way both Peggy and Steve hissed at him in disapproval through the earpiece.

It wasn’t Bucky, it was the character!

“No,” the receptionist told him through gritted teeth, looking like she’d probably shank him if he called her sweetheart again.  “The booking isn’t here.”

Natasha just finished closing the safe and was pulling herself through the ceiling.  “No? I’m calling the person who handles my schedule.  I’ll be back,” he said as a threat, walking backwards through the door.

“Probably his mother,” Sam snorted, already through the task of downloading the files they needed from the server.  Bucky stepped into the elevator to find Natasha already there.  They dropped two floors and picked up Sam and Peggy.  “And did you hear his accent? Steve, he could give you a run for your money.”

“Who do you think I learned it from?” Bucky drawled with a smile on his face.  “Haven’t you ever heard Steve yell at his neighbours for letting their dog piss in the hallway?  100% Brooklyn.”

“Hey,” Steve protested over the mic.  He was still in the van waiting for them to emerge from the building.  “Maybe if they didn’t _let their dog piss in the hallway_.”

Bucky shared a grin with his teammates at the pure Brooklyn ire in Steve’s tone, proving Bucky’s point.

 

 

**A Good Retirement Plan**

writer: RelenaFanel         artist: ElleBeesKnees

_“The world doesn’t work this way.”_

_“So change the world.”_

_\- Leverage: The Homecoming Job_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once the habit was ingrained it came naturally.  Bucky had over a dozen safe houses all over the world.  He had contingency plans.  He’d gone deeper in the years since he’d been targeted by Leviathan for exposing their human trafficking ring. There was a lakeside cottage in Minnesota that no one would look at twice for remaining empty.  There was a condo in Dubai that was a red herring because it was what was expected of him. There was a building that housed a bookstore in Ireland with 3 apartments above it, all of them occupied.  In Russia he had a small dachas, and in Romania he paid for a modest apartment as well as monthly protection fees.

None of them were particularly glamorous, but then Bucky didn’t want to stand out if he was going on the run. 

He owned 3 safehouses in the New York City area alone, and he’d continue to do so for as long as Steve considered the city his base of operations.  One was in a building that had a long-forgotten basement access hatch to the subway tunnels in case he had to disappear, quickly and out of sight from security cameras.  Another was a normal apartment in a normal apartment building where he could blend in and be forgotten about.

Those didn’t include the fancy, ostentatious condo he lived in with the view of the Hudson and the expensive security system.  In a way that was a red herring too.  He was establishing his tastes for anyone spying on him, and his tastes were decadent.

In other words, he was prepared for most eventualities, but in terms of his world being pulled out from under his feet, he hadn’t prepared for the one that led Peggy to his door with a “we need to talk.”

Peggy Carter looked elegant and at home perched on one of Bucky’s leather barstools sipping on a martini. Bucky had offered beer, and she’s asked for something stronger, so it was mostly a glass of gin topped with an olive.  She’d smiled at him when she tasted it, red lips somehow not staining the glass.

He’d once seen her get in a knock-down, drag-out fight that broke her nose and smeared blood everywhere. The other person had been unconscious for two days.  That was the epitome of Peggy, beauty and class and nail polish and lipstick and the willingness to fight to win, even if that meant poking someone in the eyes with her nails.

Bucky had kissed her three hours before.  It was currently the biggest problem in his life and having her sitting at his bar was awkward as fuck considering they were both in love with the same man.

“He was jealous,” she said finally, crunching down on one of the pretzels Bucky had put in front of her. 

“I know,” Bucky told her, because he’d seen Steve’s face after the two of them had emerged from the elevator, tucking their clothes back in and hurrying for the get-away van.  It hadn’t been… it had been a ruse, part of what they had to do to slip by the security guard’s attention.  Bucky had made out with everyone on the team at one time or another.  He’d gotten caught with his pants down with Sam back in March, and no one had blinked.

But Peggy?

Steve’s face had gone terse and his shoulders had tightened to the point where they looked painfully tense.  When he looked between them there had been a tick in his jaw.  Bucky watched all his hopes for the two of them flushing down the toilet, because it was one thing to wonder if Steve wasn’t over his ex-girlfriend and current teammate, and another thing to see the proof in front of him.

“He’s not a jealous man,” Peggy said, finishing off her drink and putting it down in a way that hinted at wanting a refill.  “He never has been.  I’ve never seen him do that.”

That was just great. Just great. “I don’t have any designs on you,” Bucky told her, working on getting her a new drink just so he’d have something to do with his hands.  He felt miserable at the idea that Steve was still in love with Peggy. “Maybe I would have if I hadn’t…”

“Met him first?” she looked amused.  “You misunderstand me. He wasn’t jealous of you. He was jealous of me.”

Bucky frowned at her, not sure what to say as he pushed her full martini glass back towards her.

“He didn’t blink last year when Nat and I pretended to be married. The difference is that it’s you. Steve and I were involved for almost 5 years and for a while we shared almost everything, what was his was mine and what was mine was his.  It crossed some wires for him when I got a taste of you first.”

“Peggy,” Bucky started to say.  It wasn’t even true.  Steve had kissed him the first time they met, and sometimes the awareness of the incongruence of it tingled at the base of his spine.  Steve didn’t lose focus on his goal of taking down Hydra, but for a second he’d given in to Bucky’s con and slight of hand willingly.  He’d kissed back, and he didn’t have to.

It kept Bucky awake at night, sometimes.

“Bucky,” she interrupted him, deliberately using his name for gravity. “You seem to have built this love triangle up in your mind when in reality my corner of it doesn’t exist anymore.  He’ll always love me, but there are things in our pasts we won’t be able to overcome, and there are things in our futures that will drive us apart even further.  Take the opportunity to enjoy that a man like Steve Rogers was jealous over you.  It’s a once in a lifetime event.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to that.  He didn’t know if he could enjoy it, no matter how tempting it was. “Thank you,” he finally settled with.  “I don’t know what to do with that, but thank you.  I think it’s more likely he was jealous of both of us.  We’re a very striking visual.”

She grinned at him, lifting her glass in a salute, but not agreeing.  They both knew that even if there were elements of truth to it, that she’d been right in laying out the current stakes between her and Steve.  It had been a kindness she didn’t need to do.  “He’s focused right now, but he’s a man who can multi-task and eventually he’ll realize it.  You need to anticipate that. If you can’t give it to him in return, do something about it now.”

He didn’t really know what to do with that information.  He’d always thought connections made him weak.  He’d joined their little troupe of conman and thieves for protection against Leviathan, and he’d stayed because they sucked him in to believing in the cause.  For the first time in his life Bucky found himself on the wrong side of the law but using his skills to protect people. 

It wasn’t nearly as addicting as Steve’s trust was.

“I thought so,” she said at his silence, draining her glass and standing, steady in her heels that were just slightly too high to be sensible. 

Bucky didn’t know what to say to her.  “Would you like a drive home?”

“No.  When I leave I’m going to have to take a few hours to not look at you.  Steve isn’t the only one who can find himself surprised by jealousy.”  She leaned in and kissed his cheek.  “You’re a better person than you think you are.  Take care of him. Let him take care of you sometimes, too. He needs a partner.”

Peggy was a capable woman who could make her way home while tipsy in non-sensible heels.  Bucky texted Natasha to check in on her, not for safety reasons but because he knew that sometimes when you laid yourself bare like that it was good to have the option to get foolishly drunk with a friend.  Peggy had given him something to think about.  It wasn’t permission to go after Steve, and it wasn’t her blessing, not explicitly, but Bucky had always thought that his tether to Steve’s emotions was the weaker one.  Knowing Peggy felt the same way about him made him wonder if she was right. 

Maybe Steve had been jealous. Of Peggy.

x.x.x.

Bucky never knew Agent Steve Rogers.  He’d never met the man when his job had been tracking down people like Bucky and putting them behind bars.  He’d heard of him, but Bucky had never been on Agent Rogers’s radar, a little through luck and a lot through skill.  Everyone in the world of conmen and thieves knew the story: SHIELD’s best agent accused of being a traitor to his agency and his country, hunted down like the people he hunted.  The only people who believed in Agent Rogers’s innocence were the conmen and thieves who had come up against his innate sense of right and wrong in the first place.

Agent Rogers had a reputation of not being able to be bought.  Bucky hadn’t paid much attention to the rumors at the time, and had honestly figured they were embellished and someone had just found the man’s price, but people seemed to believe that Steve had the strongest moral backbone of anyone.

He could see the way the other members of the team treated Steve like sometimes he would break over doing something too illegal.  They treaded carefully around him, and usually volunteered to be the one to cut the proverbial wire so Steve didn’t have to.

Bucky didn’t.  He didn’t know Agent Steve Rogers, but he’d gotten to know Steve, and Steve had never needed harsh realities softened for him.  He internalized them anyway, and as de-facto leader he took responsibility for every illegal thing they did.

But it was more than that.  It hit Bucky as he was watching Steve, Peggy’s words still on his mind, that there was something in the way he moved and the way he laughed.  Steve always carried responsibility on his shoulders, and his shoulders always looked strong enough to hold all of them, but he’d changed with them.

Steve saw him looking and sat across from him with a drink.  He looked pleased that they’d just stolen intel from a US Senator, relaxed with the laughter around him.  They were all celebrating on a roof-top lounge, Sam’s turn to pick the place.  There was a crinkle at the corners of Steve’s eyes and an easy slouch to his posture.

He met Bucky’s eye, and suddenly Bucky _knew_.

The change was subtle.  Steve seemed freer than he had felt when Bucky had met him.  He wasn’t as concerned about clearing his name and returning to his life as a SHIELD agent as he had been.  It had been almost a year since Bucky had seen the corners of his mouth become tight with displeasure at a reminder of all that he’d lost, and yet he hadn’t fallen into a funk.  It wasn’t despair in the way he held his shoulders.

Bucky squinted at him as Steve excused himself and stood, watching as he stepped over to the edge of the roof.  He looked relaxed.  Their latest mission hadn’t gone the way they wanted it to, but he wasn’t obsessing over the minutia of what went wrong.

He looked like a man who could stay in this moment for the rest of his life.  Content.  That was the word for the softness around his mouth and the way he laughed.

“Do they know?” Bucky asked, stepping up next to Steve, half listening to the sound of their team laughing in the background, recounting the harrowing escape from 52nd floor of the office building.  Sam was embellishing his leap-of-faith off the roof, and Natasha kept interrupting him.

Steve jumped slightly.  “Know?” he questioned in a mild tone.

Bucky let him have his moment of playing innocent. “I’ve figured out your secret,” Bucky told him, looking out. The view of Manhattan was spectacular, and the food and drinks were decadent.  It was the exact reason he’d gotten into the business.  Of course, when he’d started stealing he’d still been thinking small.  Fast cars, ostentatiously big houses, beautiful women who wanted him for his wealth.

Instead, he found himself rich with friends, next to a complicated (if still beautiful) man, and a view worth being on the run for.

(And also rich with money. That was very much still a thing Bucky had.)

“What’s that?” Steve asked. There was a smile hovering on his mouth as he took a sip of his drink, and Bucky wasn’t sure if it was because Steve was confident Bucky didn’t know his secret or if it was because they were sharing that awareness.  Either way there was a flirtation to it that made Bucky’s heart beat a little faster, eager for the attention.

“You get off on this,” Bucky told him, leaning back against the railing and relishing the way Steve’s eyes followed the movement.  “The rush. The danger. The game of strategy. You’ve _found_ yourself here, with us thieves. It’s different on this side, and it’s seduced you.”

Steve lifted his glass towards Bucky in a salute, but didn’t comment either way.  He was framed by the lights from the skyscraper across the street, and Bucky was reminded of the first time they met.

“All the people who knew you when you were a secret agent still treat you the same way, and you deserve respect,” he continued. “You spent years being the boogie man coming after us, and now you’re running the most successful con of all.”

“It’s not about money,” Steve told him.

“Did I say it was?” Bucky asked, looking at him.  They held eye contact for three heartbeats.  “You’re going after them piece by piece and they should be terrified by you coming for them. Your focus is the stuff of legends. I don’t know what that feels like, but I’ve heard the stories.”

“You were too good,” Steve acknowledged, that smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.  “I didn’t even know you existed until I was in your world.”

“I was,” Bucky said, leaning into Steve’s space and his warmth.  “But you’re better.”

Steve’s eyelashes fluttered closed at Bucky’s nearness, his lips parting.  Bucky wasn’t sure what to do with that.  He knew what he wanted to, but he also knew that things were very complicated for Steve at the moment.

There were things he could offer Steve, though.  Things of himself that he always left tucked away.  Small truths.  “I’ll stay with you through it because you’re a good man, and a better thief, but Steve, doing what’s right might be a worthy cause, but if it was the only reason you got up in the morning you’d be rapidly on your way towards fanaticism or burning out.  Both are dangerous for your team. If I saw hints of that in you, I’d be out.”

“You’re right,” Steve acknowledged, swallowing.  “I enjoy it.”

“I know you do,” Bucky acknowledged, picking his drink back up so he could take a sip.  “You’re having fun along the way, and I admire you more for that.  So let’s go steal a government agency.”

Steve’s back went straight next to him, like he’d relaxed into thinking maybe Bucky didn’t know his secret. The real one. Bucky enjoyed walking away as winner of that conversation.

He ruthlessly pushed down the frisson of fear.  He’d given Steve his trust.  He’d given the team his trust.  In return he’d gained theirs.  If anyone could take on a government agency and expose corruption at the very core of America, it was Steve Rogers, conman and thief, and a good man.

x.x.x.

One of Bucky’s go-to disguises, the one that made Sam roll his eyes and Nat wrinkle her nose at the smell, was to hide in plain sight as part of the homeless demographic. The fact he was usually rendered invisible was a sad indictment of a larger issue, but Bucky didn’t have a solution for it insomuch as he knew how to use it to his advantage.

He never did try to claim to be the moral one.

It was midnight and he was sitting next to a dumpster for warmth when he looked up and saw the lights turn on in their target’s office.  There was the shadow of a shape walking in front of the window, and then the man crumpled, blood spray hitting the window and running down in dark streaks.

Bucky was on his feet before he thought any better of moving.  “Guys,” he hissed into his mic, “we’ve got a problem.”

“Stay where you are,” Steve told him and it sounded like he was already running. 

“Can’t. Need extraction,” Bucky said instead, facing a dark figure who came into the alley when Bucky had moved, revealing his location.  He pushed his shopping cart into the man’s stomach as sharply as he could and ran towards the alley entrance.  Bucky had some skills with hand to hand combat, but he always preferred to not engage when he didn’t have to, and he was good at disappearing.

He made it to the street before the stranger grabbed his arm, halting Bucky’s momentum and making him swing back around.  He dodged the knife aimed at his throat and went under, using a quick nerve jab to numb the man’s arm and a follow-up move he’d learned from Nat to disarm him.

Bucky was the one with a knife now, and he felt calmer to have a weapon, twirling it with a skilled twist and jabbing it into the man’s thigh. It was a move meant to allow Bucky to run away more effectively, but it barely stopped the man and left Bucky fighting for his life, even with the weapon in his hand.

He was starting to get winded, his ribs were definitely cracked and his wrist was sprained, when Peggy stepped in and knocked the man out with a well-aimed blow to the head with a plank of wood she’d clearly found on the ground and improvised with.

“Thanks,” Bucky said, breathing hard with his hands braced on his knees.  He felt a little dizzy and he wondered if he’d been stabbed and just couldn’t feel it yet.

“Come on,” Peggy said, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the street.  Their van careened around the corner with a screech of tires, pulling up next to them.  Steve opened the sliding door, his face grim as both of them jumped in.  Bucky landed on his injured ribs and whimpered as hands grabbed him and pulled him the rest of the way in so his legs weren’t in the way of the door closing.  Sam was already driving away, back towards populated areas of the city where they could get lost in the crowd and ditch the van.

“Former SVR,” Peggy decided, removing the knife still clutched in Bucky’s fingers and turning it in her hands.  Her fingers were painted their usual red, looking both strong and capable and feminine, and Bucky was absurdly grateful for her.  “It’s a distinctive knife.”

Steve’s mouth tightened.  “Hydra?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Peggy answered. 

“I don’t like this,” Sam told them over his shoulder.  “They’re closing in.  They just murdered someone in front of us.”

It wasn’t just someone.  It was someone who was key to opening up information they needed in order to destabilize Hydra.  It was a major loss in Steve’s plan.

x.x.x.

They all sat in Steve’s living room, regrouping.  Sam helped Bucky bind his ribs, and they all nursed their wounds at the loss.  Steve’s pacing in front of the television was distracting and hypnotic.  He kept stopping as though he was about to say something and then starting again.

“Steve,” Peggy said, trying to jar him out of it after twenty minutes had passed and everyone had gone from a frantic sense of panic to a more relaxed state of panic, or they would if Steve would stop pacing.  “Steve!” she repeated in a sharper tone.

He turned to look at all of them.  “We need to take down SHIELD,” he finally said.  “To take down Hydra.” 

Bucky wasn’t surprised that he’d finally voiced the end game out loud.  He sat there in silence as the team argued, throwing out a bunch of ‘but what about…’s that Steve listened to just as quietly until they ran out of things to dissent about.

Two years before, it was the kind of plan Steve saw as a last resort, but he was a different person now, more comfortable in his own skin.  Bucky thought that given the choice, Steve Rogers cleared of all charges against him wouldn’t choose to go back to SHIELD anymore.  He understood that his goodness and ethical morals weren’t in line with the law, not always.

“We’ve been doing it that way for four years,” Steve reminded them.  “It’s time to accept that we’re approaching this wrong.” 

“If you do this, you’ll never clear your name,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, but if I don’t then I can’t claim I tried everything, can I?  Who’s with me?”


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha was the one who came up with the plan in the end.  It was frighteningly simple.  If they weren’t looking for a way to clear Steve’s name and remove Hydra from inside SHEILD, then all they had to do was expose the whole tangled web.

Bucky hoped that was the case, at least.   Simple shouldn’t be conflated with easy, so they all watched as Natasha outlined what she thought was the best way in and how to proceed from there.

“Good,” Steve answered, looking at the outline Natasha had drawn on the whiteboard with a critical eye. “I’ll call Stark for backup.”

“Tony Stark?” Sam questioned incredulously.  “Do you mean Mr. Jarvis?  All this time _Tony Stark_ has been our mysterious hacker?”

Bucky hadn’t seen that coming either, and Mr. Jarvis’s identity had bothered him for years.  He looked at everyone’s faces.  Natasha would never telegraph surprise.  Peggy looked unconcerned.  He met Sam’s eyes.

“Bucky didn’t know either!” Sam crowed.  “I’m not the only one.”

“His condition for helping us was to remain anonymous,” Steve told them.  “But I think details of this plan will reveal the secret anyway.”

x.x.x.

“I’ll do this for you,” Tony said on camera, looking displeased.  “But this is the last of the favors I owe you.”  He looked uncomfortable to see the entire team looking back at him, but regrouped on that just long enough for Steve to outline Nat’s idea of throwing all of SHIELD’s files on the internet.  “Breaking into the cloud is easy, but if you think the real nasty stuff is kept next to the personnel files and the legit missions, then – ya basic.”

“That’s why we’ll have to get you into the building,” Steve replied.

They stared at each other for a moment, a battle of wills.  Bucky had never seen Steve lose one of those before, and that track record continued as Stark huffed.  “Fine.  But you’ll owe _me_ one.”

x.x.x.

They threw themselves into preparation for the plan, dividing roles based on skill and on necessity.  It was tiring work, but they set a deadline and did their best to meet it.  Bucky watched Steve for signs that he regretted making the decision to expose the entire organization at the sake of clearing his name, but his conscious seemed to be clean of it.

None of them really had time to talk to him about it.  Peggy side-eyed him once, like she wanted him to talk to Steve, and maybe as the only person who didn’t know Steve as used to be, Bucky was the best person to do it.  He loved Steve, though, so there was a part of him who wanted to go to him and hug him close and tell him it was ok.

He settled for taking the opportunity on the way back from their final supply run, driving all the way to Newark for a very specific kind of rope Sam needed for a rig.  Bucky volunteered to go with Steve, even though both of them were running on 30 hours without sleep.  Once all the supplies were gathered, there was a window of 16 hours they could use to sleep and relax before starting their trip to DC.

Steve had been catnapping all the way back from New Jersey, which was adorable and also a little frustrating because Bucky had spent the drive there making small talk with him while Steve was driving.  Bucky couldn’t deny Steve a nap, not just because he wasn’t sure when the last time Steve slept was, but also because it made him feel protective and trusted and so, so fond.

“This isn’t the way to my apartment,” Steve pointed out three blocks after Bucky had deliberately missed the turn-off for his street, proving he was aware enough of his surroundings to know when they got off the Brooklyn Bridge.  He didn’t turn behind him, too well-trained for that, but he did tense. “Are we being followed?”

“No,” Bucky said, making another turn that brought them deeper into Brooklyn.  The one concession Steve made to his wealth was a gorgeous condo on the waterfront of Brooklyn Heights.  Bucky didn’t blame him for that, even admired him for being so true to himself that he knew what he wanted and bought it.  Steve wasn’t the one for ostentatious cars and overt signs of luxury. “I want to show you something.  It’s about a thirty minute drive.”

“Ok,” Steve answered with absolute trust, settling back into the plush seats in Bucky’s car.  He turned the seat warmers up and his eyes drifted closed again as Bucky drove.  Steve deserved every second of sleep he could get.  He was burning himself out with the minutia of going over and over everything they knew about Hydra for the plan while throwing the team looks of concern.

“Steve,” Bucky said gently after he eased his car into an empty spot.  Post-gentrification and parking was still a nightmare.  Steve opened his eyes and blinked at him.  “Sorry.” Bucky had to hide a smile because Steve blinking sleepily at him was adorable.  “We’re going to have to walk a few blocks.”

“Brooklyn is Brooklyn,” Steve said, agreeing with him and opening the car door.  He followed Bucky down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets.  It was the first chilly autumn day of the year, the kind Bucky would usually enjoy, but taking down evil government agencies was seasonless work.  By the time Bucky stopped in front of a cafe Steve was giving him curious looks.

Bucky didn’t blame him.  It wasn’t that great of a café.

“Sit here,” he told Steve, putting his hand on a seat at an empty table outside.  Sidewalk real-estate in Brooklyn was a big deal. Steve was probably regretting getting all cozy with the butt warmers now that he was being asked to sit on a cold metal bistro chair.  “I’ll be back with drinks.  Caffeinated or non-caffeinated?”

“Non,” Steve answered, rubbing his hand through his hair.  Bucky could feel him watching as he went to get drinks, and a part of him felt bad for waking Steve up for this and not just driving him home.  It was selfish.  Once Bucky settled on how he’d talk to Steve he couldn’t let go of the idea.  So he bought the drinks, shored up his bravery, and went back outside to sit across from Steve.

Steve smiled at him and took the decaf coffee, holding it between his hands and waiting for Bucky to speak with patient indulgence.  He looked relaxed, still exhausted, but peaceful.

Bucky could feel it too.  It felt good to take a breather and sit across from Steve like this.

“A decade ago I owned that house,” he told Steve, gesturing to the building diagonally across from them.  The house was still standing, still a single-owner dwelling, but Bucky was the one who had changed.  It no longer looked expensive and desirable.  His tastes had gone beyond it, and the price of his Manhattan condo made the house look like a Fisher-Price playset. 

Steve immediately looked over towards it, his brow furrowing in thought.  Bucky beat him to it.

“I grew up down the block.  If you look behind me, you can see the front stoop of the apartment building at the very end of the street.”

Steve looked.  He craned his neck to look and then he turned to stare at Bucky.  “You’re from Brooklyn?” he asked, incredulously.

“Yeah,” Bucky answered with a grin.  “D’you think you had the monopoly on being from this town?”

“Honestly?  I wasn’t even sure you were American.”

“I work hard to ensure that.”  He took a casual drink of his coffee and then grinned at Steve.  “I wanted more than anything to get out of the cramped two bedroom apartment shared between five people.  That house looked like a luxury of space.  I yearned for it.  I set it as my goal.  And when I bought it, I never spent a single night in it.”

Steve was quiet as he looked at Bucky.  “I understand what you’re saying.”

“I thought you might, but I’m going to say it anyway.  I have a personal motto: _Be smart. Be better. Reassess._ I learned it’s ok for your dreams to grow with you because holding on to them can hold you back.  By the time I bought the house, I was bigger than that dream.  I sold it because there’s no point in holding on to those past versions of ourselves, not when they hold us back.  I’ve never looked back on that decision except to use it to remind me to look forward.”

Steve shrugged a shoulder. “Agent Steve Rogers doesn’t exist anymore.  I’ve let him go.”

“Agent Steve Rogers shaped you, just as much as being on the run has.  He still exists in your past, but even if you were reinstated you couldn’t go back to him.  I don’t think you could go back to the constraints of the law anymore.  You’ve helped more people going against it.”

Steve took a shuddering breath.  “I know,” he said.  It was a simple sentence but it had a wealth of feeling behind it.

“I wanted you to see where I came from,” Bucky told him, “because you made the decision to let go of your past firmly, and you haven’t paused since to acknowledge it.  I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Tomorrow we’re leaving here.”  Maybe for good.  Bucky wasn’t so naïve that he didn’t realize that whether they failed or succeeded mattered when it came to whether or not they could return to New York City.  They had a plan for that, too.  “I wanted to give this to you, too,” he said, gesturing around him.  “As a gift.”

“I don’t need your past to know who you are as a person,” Steve told him, but he was ruining his point by looking around him, soaking it all up.  “But I crave it.  You have siblings?”

“No.  James Buchanan Barnes had two sisters, though.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve echoed in wonder.   “The accent was real.”

x.x.x.

They failed.

Their plan was flawless, on paper and almost in execution.  Steve had a way of seeing the scope of things, of understanding the small details along with the large picture.  It had made him just as much of an invaluable employee when he’d been a SHIELD Agent as it had made him a threat to Hydra.  Bucky wasn’t the only one who had learned a valuable lesson when the walls of corruption pressed in.

In the beginning Peggy had been the one to harbor Steve to safety while both of them scrambled to understand why Steve was branded a traitor to SHIELD and to his country.  She’d left with him because of her faith in his steadfastness and his truth of character.

(and for Bucky that’s why their story would always end with them side by side, no matter how often Steve’s eyelashes swept down when he looked at Bucky or how often their fingers brushed and Bucky felt it thrill every nerve in his body).

They were more than halfway through the break in on the Triskelion when Steve was captured.  It was a focused strike that none of their security measures or planning could have prevented.

Steve gave himself up like a chess pawn when he was the King, so the team could escape.

Like a cascade effect, multiple things happened at once.  Natasha took out Alexander Pierce instead of using the window Steve had given her, obtaining the override Tony had been trying to hack for the last thirty minutes, and the files they needed were uploaded to the internet.

The moment they were readily available, Peggy stormed in through the front entrance with the cavalry, a multi-agency task force that had been waiting to move on her signal, revealing herself as a British Secret Agent, a spy at SHEILD who had seen Steve’s situation as an opportunity. 

She walked in the door of the Triskelion, burned her cover, and walked out with Steve and a reassignment.

It was, with all honesty, the most romantic and foolhardy thing Bucky had ever seen.  He might have shed a tear when Peggy and Steve parted ways on the airport tarmac, her heading back to the UK and Steve and the team scattering, going into hiding before the focus turned from Hydra on to them.

x.x.x.

The thing of it was, Bucky thought on the plane, Peggy behaved like Steve hadn’t known who she really was, but the way everything fell into place had the feeling of one of Steve’s plans, the whole thing hinging on Peggy coming in at the last minute flashing a badge.

x.x.x.

Bucky lived his life looking over his shoulder, that was nothing new.  Hydra’s main facility might have been raided by the good guys, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other outposts and other agents out there, none of them happy to have lost the cover of SHIELD. 

They went to ground for 6 months, as agreed on.  “Sam defers to Steve,” Peggy had said to Bucky, pulling him aside at the last minute with serious eyes and a grim set to her mouth.  She was wearing a badge around her neck and it was a good accessory on her.  “Natasha will run side-cons when she thinks he’s wrong.  You snark at him.  You’re going to have to look him in the eye and call him on his bullshit sometimes.  The others won’t.”  Bucky remembered her words as they were splitting up.

“Steve,” Bucky said, grabbing his elbow to stop him from leaving.  Natasha had already gotten into a car waiting in short-term parking.  Sam disappeared into foot traffic.  He was sure none of them planned to stay in America. “Where are you planning to go?”

Steve shrugged.  It wasn’t his I’m-trying-to-be-evasive shrug, it was his I-planned-for-everyone-else-but-didn’t-consider-myself shrug.  Bucky’s money went towards ensuring his safety and comfort for as long as he was alive, and Steve’s money went towards charitable contributions that made the world a little better.  Bucky might be more of an honest citizen these days, but he was an honest citizen with a good retirement plan.

“Jesus,” he hissed once he realized Steve had probably planned to go back to Brooklyn once he was sure they were all safe.  “Are you serious?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” Bucky demanded.  He considered, for a crazy moment, bringing Steve with him on the run.  How it would feel to wake up in the morning – not next to him, he wasn’t that optimistic, but with him there – knowing that he had Steve all to himself for the entire day, with nothing else to do but relax and wait.  It was a potent fantasy, one he’d think of with regret for a long time.  “Here,” he said, giving Steve the instructions to his safehouse in Ireland.  It didn’t escape his notice that he was sending Steve closer to Peggy than he’d be to Bucky.  “It’ll keep you safe.  Remember Natasha’s advice to commit to the character and not to oversell it.  Pick a backstory you know,” he was rambling now, but fuck could Steve be hopeless without preparation.  “Be friendly but not too friendly.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Steve said, frowning at the slip of paper.  “Where will you go?”

Bucky sighed.  “This isn’t my only contingency plan.  I spend half my free time planning how to survive on the run.”  He meant the words to be chiding, but Steve just looked at him with sad eyes like he’d heard something else in them.  “Go,” Bucky said, letting go of Steve.  Neither of them moved for a moment, and then Bucky acted, pressing himself forward with a wild impulse he didn’t have the will to master into submission.  He kissed Steve, quickly, with personal desperation that wasn’t translated into the way his lips slotted against Steve’s softly, except for maybe the way it happened at all. He felt the thrill of _finally, finally_ pass through him, even as he pulled away just as quickly as he’d moved in.

Steve stared at him and licked his lips in lingering surprise.

“I…” he said.

“ _Go_ ,” Bucky pressed because they’d already lingered too long.  It wasn’t safe to stand still for long, and Bucky wouldn’t leave to safety until he knew Steve wasn’t going to do something stupid.  He had a flight to Frankfurt that was already boarding, and then less than three hours to disguise himself again and catch a train to Prague.

“Bucky,” Steve said, and hesitated.  “Come with me?”

“Don’t move in a straight line.  Watch your back.  Be careful,” Bucky listed off.  “Don’t be fucking reckless.”

x.x.x.

On his own for six months Bucky got _bored_.  The less said about his detour into Saudi Arabia to keep his skills sharp, the better.  He monitored the news for signs of his team, but in their line of work a lot of thefts didn’t get put on the news, and even those that did couldn’t all be Natasha or Sam.  There were a lot of thieves, grifters, and con artists in the world.  The label of ‘best’ came down to personal stakes in what job sounded the most impressive.  For a lot of people Bucky lost his status when he’d been burned.  He might be scrubbed from most databases but memories in this line of work were long.

(He’d kissed Steve.)

It bothered him a little.  He’d be lying if he said part of the thrill wasn’t cultivating a certain reputation.  But if being a ghost story held a certain amount of pride for him, so did being a modern Robin Hood legend.

( _He’d kissed Steve.)_

He started getting itchy to go back.  It took him three weeks after his small detour to realize that while he missed the team, the thrill, the altruism, and the purpose, what he really missed was Steve.  There were reasons none of them knew where each other were. It wasn’t a lack of trust, not really.

(He’d kissed Steve.  Steve had kissed him back.)

Missing Steve wasn’t a surprise, not really, but the restlessness from them being parted was.

Bucky had been sure he had a handle on his own impulses.  Over the years there were a lot of urges he denied himself, getting a grip on his control until he could look at it from all sides and understand whether the risk was worth it.  If he was going to walk into a room and steal a precious item, it was important to know the contingencies and to have a plan.

(He’d kissed Steve.  Steve had kissed him back and invited Bucky to go with him.)

In obtaining Steve’s heart, the path forward was completely free of visible obstacles for the first time since they’d met.  Bucky was painfully aware of that fact as he paced the living room of his chateau right outside a lovely coastal town in a country with no extradition agreement with the United States.  It was a paradise, and the safest he could make himself without hiding in a cave for 6 months.

And yet.

And yet, he could see the straight line.  And once he saw the straight line, he couldn’t unknow it. 

“Fuck,” Bucky said out loud, throwing his tumbler against the fireplace.  It shattered, wicked shards of glass flying across the white floor.

(He’d kissed Steve.)

There was a reason they shouldn’t know where the other was, and Bucky always had a handle on his own impulses.  He _survived_ by having a handle on his own impulses.

x.x.x.

Steve was rounding the street corner when Bucky finally spotted him, wearing a black beanie and a thick jacket that made him look bulkier than he was.  His one concession to a disguise was a full beard and worn jeans, giving him the same appearance as any of the blue collar Irish workers in the neighborhood.  He waved at one of his neighbours and stopped at the grocers across the street to pick up food.

It was a quaint, domestic scene.

Bucky stepped away from the window and settled into the worn armchair he’d picked out himself, turning it so it faced the door so he could watch Steve’s face when he spotted him.  Maybe Bucky shouldn’t be in Ireland, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to get his entertainment out of losing the fight with his impulse control.

Bucky heard Steve’s feet on the steps as he approached the flat.  His footsteps were cautious, but they weren’t cautious enough for him to know that someone was in his space.  It was the lumber of someone who knew to always approach their door with caution.  Peggy would say it was a distinctive sound.

The door unlocked, and Bucky watched it.  His heart was beating quickly in anticipation.  This was the thrill he’d been missing and what had been absent from his little adventure in Saudi Arabia.  Theft was mundane without Steve in his ear, taking up the spaces in his mind that had been denied for so long.  Steve took half a step into the flat, spotted Bucky, and grabbed the lid off his garbage can, holding it defensively in front of himself so quickly that both of them paused and blinked at each other for a moment.

“Really?” Bucky finally said in a judgmental tone.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked after he dropped lid with a clatter.  In Bucky’s most fantastic fantasy, this was the point where Steve ran into his arms.  Of course, in Bucky’s worst fantasies Steve shot him for startling him, so Bucky would count this as a win.

“I’m bored,” Bucky said with amusement, standing from the chair.

“You’re bored?” Steve echoed incredulously, raising his eyebrows and stripping off his jacket and hat, hanging them on a hook by the door.  “There are safer diversions.”

Bucky smirked at him.  This man.  “True, but you’ve never been one for safe, have you?”  He aimed for flirty and accepted the innuendo for what it was.

Steve paused and looked at him, a thoughtful expression on his face.  “You kissed me,” he reminded Bucky. 

“I remember, I was there.”

“I want to talk about that.  Still bored?” He took the seat across from Bucky and gave him a challenging look, as though he expected Bucky to run from emotions.  His extra, dramatic ass pulled the chair over so it aligned with Bucky’s.  It scraped across the floor.

“No, I’m not bored,” he gave Steve a soft smile to show he was serious and sat back down.  “I’m happy to talk about it.  If I wanted to avoid it, I never would have come here.”

“Bucky,” Steve started to say, and then he broke off, rubbing his hands on his jeans.  “I… I’ve been waiting for you, but I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“I fought not to,” Bucky admitted.  Take the leap, his brain was telling him.  Bucky had jumped off buildings with only his fingers gripping tight to the front of Sam’s harness and his legs wrapped as tightly as possible around his thighs.  Jerking to a stop had been what almost did him in and made him let go.  That had been just as terrifying as this moment was.  All he had to do was not jerk to a stop.  “I’ve been falling in love with you one day at a time since the moment we met.”

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I knew where you were, and I knew all the reasons why I shouldn’t come, for your safety and for mine.  I failed.”

“Bucky.” Steve’s tone was awed, wonderous and surprised, and just the slightest bit chiding.  They looked at each other for a few moments.

“Steve,” Bucky used as a prompt, because the longer Steve was silent, the more nervous he got.  What if Steve wanted to talk about the kiss in a ‘where did that come from, and why did it happen’ way? What if Bucky had come all this way and was actually in for disappointment? Could he slip back to his safe house with his tail between his legs? After the six months could he meet back up with everyone? He was such a…

“Thank fuck,” Steve breathed.


	3. Chapter 3

They were silent as Steve made enough food for two, allowing Bucky to sneak pieces of carrot off the chopping board and watch him.  “I miss the team,” Steve said, throwing everything into a frying pan and looking at Bucky with a surprising amount of honest vulnerability.  “But…”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.  “I knew, but I didn’t know, you know?  How it would feel to be away from you.”

That made Steve smile softly and duck his head.  Bucky was sure his cheeks would look flushed if they weren’t obscured by his beard.  “Exactly,” he admitted.  There was raw honesty on his face.  “I missed you every day.  I knew why you didn’t come with me, but being alone here because you turned down my offer felt lonely.”

One of the personal things Bucky knew about Steve was that he didn’t talk about his feelings easily.  He faced them bravely, the same way he faced down a gun, but to say all that openly wasn’t effortless.

Bucky stood, stepping around the counter so he could lean up into Steve’s space.  He put his hands on either side of Steve’s neck, thumbs beneath his cheekbones so that Steve’s face was cradled in Bucky’s hands, and looked at him, taking in the blues of his eyes and the way his mouth parted in anticipation.  Steve watched him back, his hands settling on Bucky’s waist easily.

God.  God.  The best thing that had ever happened to Bucky was meeting Steve at that auction, and not because it had saved his life.

Steve moved in, making the first move.  The pressure of his lips against Bucky’s was soft and gentle, tentative.  Bucky tilted his head into it and pressed his chest against Steve’s, feeling the way Steve’s grip adjusted, tightening against him for a moment.  Bucky felt the thrill of it down to his toes. 

Steve inhaled slightly into his mouth, almost a gasp, and kissed – really kissed –  Bucky.  It was sweet and intent, his every bearing focused on Bucky, and Bucky needed to be closer, responding like a man in a drought would to the rain.  He could feel each place they touched, the heat of Steve’s body and the way Bucky’s nerves prickles at the sensation of touch.

“We should… food,” Bucky pointed out, pulling away.

“Or…” Steve offered, “we could leave the food and go to the bedroom.”

Bucky looked at the food, he looked at Steve, and he considered whether he was ready for that.  “Eat first,” he decided, “and then we take it slow.”

“Responsible,” Steve responded with a quirk of his mouth.  He looked happy.  Bucky had seen Steve happy.  He’d seen him glow with smugness after winning, and he’d seen him laugh, but he’d never seen him look like this.  He was content and excited and real.  “How are you the responsible one?”

“You don’t have a monopoly on the trait.”  Bucky pulled back and started opening cupboards looking for the plates.  He’d stocked the kitchen with bare necessities, but Steve had rearranged everything like the Type A personality that he was.  He found them beside the microwave, which said a lot about Steve’s skills in the kitchen.  “What?” he asked when he turned and found Steve staring at him.

“We’ve never been alone together for more than a few hours.”

“There was that time we had the stomach flu and the team left us for two days.”  It had been disgusting.  It took him a week after that experience to find Steve attractive again, but luckily Steve had a habit of exposing his stomach when he stretched and Bucky had a weakness for _all that_.

Steve wrinkled his nose.  “The less mentioned about that the better.  I like it.  Are you staying for the full four months?”

“Yeah, if you’ll have me.”

x.x.x.

“Hi,” Bucky said in a cheerfully flirty tone, sliding into Steve’s lap and dislodging the cranky-old-man newspaper he was reading like he didn’t know five ways to get the same news on an iPad, two of them only semi-legal.  The night before they’d lazily made out in Steve’s bed, exploring each other with soft touches and unhurried promise.  It had been one of the best experiences in Bucky’s life.  He enjoyed that he could slide into Steve’s lap, liked confirming the feel of Steve’s solid thigh muscles against his.  He liked Steve’s smell, still soapy from his shower.

Steve’s hand automatically came up to support Bucky’s back.  “Hi,” he replied with a fond smile.

Bucky stole his coffee and took a drink.  Steve liked his coffee with cream and no sugar, and Bucky liked his however he could get it (but secretly with flavoured syrups and whipped cream if someone ever put a gun to his head and made him choose. He drank it black 85% of the time just to throw people off the scent of that preference). 

“You can finish that,” Steve told him.  “I have to run a few errands this morning.  Do you want to see the neighbourhood?”

“Errands?” Bucky asked, sipping at the coffee and wriggling a bit in Steve’s lap for emphasis.  “I thought we’d spend the day in.”

“There are certain things I think we’ll need,” Steve said, clearing his throat.  That lovely flush Bucky had noticed the first time they met at the bar in the auction house appeared on the side of Steve’s neck, and Bucky was distracted for a moment by the idea that he’d get to explore it for the first time.

Then he focused on what Steve said.  “Condom and lube run!” and started laughing.

Steve’s flush rose so that he was blushing, but the embarrassment was just his fair skin because Steve had no problem talking about sex.  “We’ll need them eventually.”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed, getting up and taking the coffee with him.  He crossed the small flat and went into the bathroom so he could shower.  Nothing sounded better than going shopping with Steve and letting him show Bucky around.  Maybe they could stop in the bookstore downstairs and Bucky could find something to read.   Bucky didn’t really know what to do on a vacation.  It wasn’t really a skill he possessed.

x.x.x.

The moment they were back through the door Steve was kissing him, pressing Bucky up against the corner of the kitchen counter.  It dug into his butt, but Steve was kissing him, and Bucky didn’t care about how uncomfortable that was. He pulled Steve against him, wanting to feel more and prepared to wrap his thighs around Steve’s hips to get it.

“Have we been responsible enough?” Steve asked, breathless.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, dragging Steve back in.  Any seconds where they weren’t touching was a waste of time.  Bucky had wanted the one thing he couldn’t steal for so long that trusting Steve with his heart and his body felt like a relief. 

Steve sank to his knees in front of Bucky without any urging.

God. Bucky had wanted this man for so long that looking down at Steve’s face set in familiar focused lines as he unbuckled Bucky’s made him just as fond as he was excited.  He ran his hand through Steve’s hair, longer than he usually kept it.  It was still the same shade, but coupled with his beard it looked darker. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since I met you,” Steve told him, working on the button and zipper.  “You have no idea what you looked like to me.  You make me want to throw away caution and common sense.”

Bucky hummed in agreement because that didn’t need a response.  Steve knew that Bucky knew what he meant. 

Steve finished pulling aside Bucky’s boxers, exposing his dick to Steve’s gaze.  It was a vulnerable moment, but Bucky had learned to trust Steve a long time ago.  It translated to this the same way it translated to everything, with Bucky wanting to give Steve anything he wanted, exposing those pieces of himself that he’d hidden away a long time ago.

Metaphorically, of course.  That wasn’t a dick joke.

Well, maybe a little.

Steve was gentle and slow as his mouth descended on Bucky’s cock, his lips dragging along the skin in a slow torment that was making Bucky hard.  Bucky inhaled, breathing as he relaxed from the frantic pace of their kissing into the slow way Steve was nuzzling against him.

Taking that as a signal, or just because he was a fucking asshole, Steve then moved his mouth over the tip of Bucky’s cock and then slid down so he was engulfing as much of it as he could in his mouth.  Bucky could feel the wet heat of it, the way Steve’s throat tightened against the head of his dick as he breathed and swallowed slightly.

The counter was still digging into his butt.  Being uncomfortable was the last thing on Bucky’s mind, but as Steve naturally crowded into him, doing his best to take as much of Bucky’s cock into his throat like it was a personal challenge – which OF COURSE was the way Steve gave blow jobs, OF COURSE it was – he pushed a bit too hard against Bucky’s hips in a way that would probably leave a bruise across the back of his ass.

“Ow,” Bucky said, reacting instinctively by thrusting forward and choking Steve.  Steve recoiled sharply and gave Bucky his best affronted expression, which was hilarious considering Bucky just got to third base with the kitchen counter.  Bucky just rubbed his backside ruefully.  “Are you ok?” he asked, choking back laughter.

“Are you?”

“I think we should probably go into the bedroom.  Less ways to get maimed,” Bucky admitted, and then looked down at the way his jeans were around his knees and wondered if he should pull them up or down.

Awkward.

Steve watched him frown down at his pants and then started laughing.  “Here, just…” he said, stripping off his shirt.

“That doesn’t really help,” Bucky pointed out, because he loved seeing Steve shirtless.  He’d stand there for hours just looking if Steve let him.  But what the fuck? How was that helpful?

Jesus, they once stole something from one of the most secure museums in America, but a simple blow job was beyond them?

“I’m not trying to be helpful,” Steve told him, moving forward to pull Bucky’s shirt over his head.  “I’m just trying to keep this going.”

Bucky was left with his pants still at his knees.  Fuck it, he decided, using the counter to brace himself as he kicked them off entirely.  His socks and leather boots came off with them.  He was left entirely naked and Steve only had his shirt off.

Steve kept smiling at him.  “Ok,” he said, walking backwards towards the bedroom with his hand out for Bucky.  “Now come with me.”

That was why Steve was team leader.  He made the hard decisions.

(also not an innuendo)

(maybe a little)

Bucky followed him into the bedroom.

x.x.x.

Having sex with someone you knew how to have fun with added a layer to the pleasure.  It was easier to laugh when you knew you had someone to laugh with you and it was easier to see the joy and hilarity in the act of trying to get the condom box open with one hand, or lube squirting everywhere when you sat through the discomfort of watching the other person try to be a stand-up comedian for a grift.

Bucky wriggled at the cold slick of it dripping down his thigh, snorting at the way Steve gave him a sheepish grimace before his fingers slid through it to collect it.  His other broad hand stroked Bucky’s inner thigh, gently holding his legs open.  Bucky was fully hard from the attentions of Steve’s mouth and hand, teasing and purposeful in turns, until he was begging Steve for more. 

There was a gentleness in Steve’s eyes as he eased himself forward, preparing him with sure, but tender movements of his fingers. Bucky didn’t know what he expected from Steve for their first time.  He’d thought of a lot of scenarios, from an-assignment-made-them-do it to their mutual attraction making them combust and have a quickie in a closet, to something very similar to this.  The reverence in the way Steve regarded him wasn’t something he could dream up.  It made him squirm.  He wanted to laugh at the thought Steve was opening him up emotionally as well.

“What is it?” Steve asked, his hand rubbing small circles on Bucky’s thigh.

Bucky grinned but shook his head.  “I like what you’re doing.  Keep going.  I won’t always want to be touched like a delicate flower petal, for future reference, but it feels nice for this.”

Steve’s smile was wicked.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said in that deep, flirty tone that only came out a few times during a con to absolutely destroy Bucky’s peace of mind.  Having it directed at him was an understated kind of thrilling.

“Here.” Bucky widened his legs and grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, passing it to Steve.  He made a mental note to buy more pillows.  Steve just had the two and if they were going to be having sexy times, he wasn’t sleeping on something he’d just come over, even if they changed the pillow case.  Bucky lifted his hips so he could help Steve slide it under.  “And hurry up, I’m mentally composing a shopping list, here.”

“What’s on it?” Steve asked, like that wasn’t an insult to his masculine pride.  It probably wasn’t.  Steve wasn’t really the type.

“Pillows.”

Steve snorted, moving over Bucky with a slide of skin.  Bucky reached for him, his hands gripping Steve’s strong back as Steve slowly entered him.  Their eyes met and held. 

Bucky exhaled in a long stream, biting his bottom lip as he shifted against Steve, more to get comfortable and to feel him than to urge him on.  He clenched once. Blinked in amazement because this was happening and any time his brain acknowledged that he felt a bit overwhelmed by it.  God.  _Steve_.  Bucky’s hands gripped at Steve’s back and he shifted again, and _breathed_ because it felt _so good_.

“Yeah,” Steve muttered, lowering his head so he could taste along the line of Bucky’s neck.  “You’re so beautiful. I didn’t think anything could distract me from my goal,” he whispered in a stream of consciousness into Bucky’s ear.  Steve was fucking into him slowly, but with a strength behind the intimacy.  “Then you called me young and cheap,” he said, smiling against Bucky’s skin.  “And stole my wallet.”

“Steve,” Bucky keened.  Both of them were breathing hard.  Bucky moved his leg without much thought, positioning it so he could flip them over and get Steve on his back.

The move knocked the wind out of Steve and he looked up at Bucky with wonder.  “Coulda said.”

“Said what?” Bucky asked, bracing his hands on Steve’s chest, and fuck.  Fuck this might be worse.  Having control made him want to do the wickedest things, including babbling his love right back to Steve.  Bucky moved over him, feeling the way Steve’s cock felt inside him as he grinded on it.  He made sure to put on a little show, lifting his chin and stretching his torso so Steve was looking up the long line of him.

Bucky knew what he looked like, but it was gratifying to watch it on Steve’s face, the way his eyes went dark with want and the way he licked his lips.  The expression promised retribution, maybe not now, but at some future point Steve would get him back.

Bucky looked forward to that.

Bucky stopped posing after a few moments, less worried about how he looked than he was at chasing the pleasure.  He was riding Steve in earnest, and he reached down to remove Steve’s hands from his hips, holding his hands as he leaned forward, bracing them on the bed next to Steve’s head.  “The times I’ve thought about riding your cock,” he said to Steve, sounding like home.

Steve whined. 

If Bucky could focus he’d wonder if it was the dirty talk or the Brooklyn accent that did it.  Steve’s hips jerked against him, breathing the rhythm.  He rolled them back over, dislodging the pillow and half the bedsheets, and fucked into Bucky so deeply that he cried out and raised his arm to brace it against the headboard.

“Yeah,” Bucky urged.  “Like that.”

Steve did it again.  And again.

Fuck, for someone who never took orders well, Steve could fucking take direction.  Bucky’s breath kept getting caught in his throat at Steve’s thrusts, and he knew he was getting close.  His dick slid easily against Steve’s sweat-soaked skin, but it wasn’t giving him the friction he needed to push him over the edge. 

“I need,” he started to say, but Steve interrupted him with a kiss.  It was filthy, lacking complete finesse or thought, and Bucky tilted his head into it for more.  He could tell that Steve was coming, and he made a mental note about what the kiss telegraphed.  He reached his own hand down to stroke his cock, wedging it between their bodies awkwardly.  It only took a few tugs before Bucky was coming, spilling over his hand and stomach.

x.x.x.

In the aftermath Bucky found himself staring at the ceiling with Steve next to him in the bed.  They were completely naked, the quilt pooled on the floor over the side of the bed.  Bucky would have to grab it in a few moments as the chilly air hit his fevered skin.  It still felt good, helping him cool down from the really good fucking.  His thigh muscles ached, and his legs were tangled with Steve’s.

“What will we do for the next four months?” Bucky asked with a smile in his tone.  There was a water stain on the ceiling, and he made a mental note to see that the roof didn’t need replacing.  He turned his head to look at Steve, who was watching Bucky with his cheek smooshed into the only pillow left.  Bucky took a second to lean in to brush his lips against Steve’s.

“This,” Steve answer.  “Nothing but this.”

“You’ll get bored,” Bucky told him, laughing when Steve frowned at him.  “Not with me and sex.  With everything else.  This isn’t enough, and it shouldn’t have to be.  Sex and idyll days?  It’s a retirement plan.”

“Then we’ll practice for retirement,” Steve answered, and sounded content.  “Read some books.  Watch some movies.  Give each other lazy blow jobs.”

 “Take a trip to Amsterdam to steal some jewels.”

Steve smiled indulgently.  “Sure.  Gotta keep those fingers dexterous.”

Bucky snorted.  Then he rolled fully against Steve, feeling his warm, bare chest against his.  “I can think of other ways to do that.”


	4. Chapter 4

They were sitting in the corner of the pub enjoying a pint.  Bucky’s knee was pressed against the inside of Steve’s and it felt normal, like they were just two citizens enjoying a drink as winter settled in.  Neighbourhoods like this one always had a pub on the corner, ones that usually served locals and had a limited menu of whatever someone on staff could make without poisoning everyone.  It looked like it had been there since the 50s and never had a facelift.

It reminded both of them of Brooklyn.  Steve loved it.  Bucky appreciated it for what it was.

The bartender knew Steve by name because when Steve first arrived he went there scouting for work.  Bucky had told Steve to stay under the radar and blend in, but Steve had taken one look at the neighbourhood and assessed it and knew it was better to integrate, and he’d done a great job of it.  People knew Steve.

They knew Bucky as Steve’s boyfriend.

It pleased him a little to be anonymous, not out of design, but because it didn’t matter who he was.  He was Steve’s, and that was enough for these people.  He’d always thought that kind of thing would grate at him, and he figured that anywhere else but a close-knit community that didn’t take well to outsiders but protected their own, that it probably would.

But Steve was theirs, and Bucky was Steve’s, so he was served the good lager and only looked at with minimal suspicion.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed the man who swaggered through the door, paused with a squint, and then unnecessarily pushed his way through to their table.  “Mam wants to see you.”

“Oh?” Steve asked, unconcerned, as he took a drink.

“She has a job for you.”

With those words, the reality of why Steve was so readily accepted after a few months came crashing in on Bucky and he shot Steve an incredulous look.  He was just as bad as Bucky doing that Saudia Arabia job, maybe even worse.  Steve couldn’t let go of the con either.  He grinned at Steve, the kind of smile that said ‘gotcha’.

“Both of you.”

“Bucky wasn’t part of the agreement,” Steve replied.

“She’ll see you tomorrow at 10 in the morning,” the man continued, ignoring Steve entirely.  “Bit of advice: wear a suit and lose the beard. She thinks men with beards are lazy oafs.”

They both watched the man leave with just as much posturing as he arrived.  “Really, Steve?” Bucky asked.  “The mob?”

Steve took another drink with the same level of unconcern.  Bucky supposed after taking down SHIELD and Hydra with it that this was nothing.  “I like to keep busy,” he said with a shrug.

Bucky sighed and finished his drink in one long pull before standing.  “Guess I’m going to buy a suit,” he said.  “So much for that retirement plan.”

“What retirement plan?  We both know your fingers were getting restless without something to do,” Steve pointed out, looking up at him with a smirk on his face that said he heard the innuendo and dared Bucky to comment on it.  “Besides, they have no idea _who_ you are.”

“Who am I?” Bucky asked, charmed because he couldn’t help but be charmed.

“A ghost story,” Steve reminded him with pride.

_~fin~_

* * *

 

**And then...**

There was a whole team in the safehouse.   Murphy was impatient next to them, jittering his leg like no one had sat him down and explained how much waiting was involved in a good theft.  Steve deferred to Bucky on the details, which Bucky appreciated.  Steve never had the patience for sitting still and watching for hours at a time either, even if he knew it was necessary for gathering intel. Steve's deference grated on Murphy too.  Bucky didn’t let it bother him.  All he had to do was give the man his resume and he’d be bowing at Bucky’s feet, but it was fun to be seen as just Steve’s sweetheart.  Like the fact Bucky took it up the ass made him less of a thief.

Pffffttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt.

Besides.  He and Steve switched.

“I’m going to piss,” Murphy muttered for the fourth time since they’d gotten in the van ten hours before.  It was more likely he was going for a smoke break.  He’d tried lighting up in the van and Steve had disarmed the man of his gun at the same time Bucky had stolen the cigarette from his mouth.  He’d listened to Steve’s ‘No Smoking’ warning and taken it to heart.

They didn’t make lackeys like they used to.

“Should we leave without him?” Steve asked in annoyance at the back-door slamming.  “He’s compromising this entire operation.”

Bucky grinned and reached for the keys to turn the ignition. 

“Wait,” Bucky said instead of turning on the van.  Someone was walking down the street, not standing out in any way, but there was something familiar about him.  “Is that Loki Laufeyson?”

Loki threw a smoke grenade through the safe-house window just as casually as he did everything else, which was to say with a lot of drama.  He paused to pull something up over his face and then took a stroll through the front door.

“Shit,” Bucky said, grabbing his kit and opening the door.  “There goes the money.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on Tumblr](http://relenafanel.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Find ellebeesknees on Tumblr](http://ellebeesknees.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Reblog [the artwork.](http://ellebeesknees.tumblr.com/post/174762810227/lenadraws-one-of-my-contributions-for-the)  
> Reblog [the masterpost](http://ellebeesknees.tumblr.com/post/174766194712/a-good-retirement-plan-a-collaboration-for)


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